the pale king
by handholders
Summary: "He's grown accustomed to her skin the most, bare and plain. Clean like the canvas before painting, like paper before words. After he's done with her, she screams black and blue, purple and fading yellow." ALL HUMAN AU. Prompt: One is a prostitute, and one is the customer. / Bella doesn't care how her relationship took a turn for the abnormal, and feels almost ... excited.


_the pale king_

i. He's grown accustomed to her skin the most, bare and plain. Clean like the canvas before painting, like paper before words. After he's done with her, she screams black and blue, purple and fading yellow. And they go at it again, when her body is still recovering and his mind is filled with hate and impatience – _how sinful_, she would mutter. What would her mother think of her? And her father? _They don't matter_, she says. They don't matter as much as his touches do, across here and across there. They don't matter once her heart starts pumping, and once her stomach starts doing flips and cartwheels, and once she is withering like one of his whores. They don't matter, they don't matter, they don't matter.

...

ii. Take_ them off_, is the first thing that comes out of her lips. Sometimes it's slowly, one piece of clothing ripped of her body almost painfully slow. The only protection of her dignity she sheds, head raised high and her glossy lips lifted into a smile, a smirk. Sometimes it's fast though, and he's joining her too as he grips her rough and uncaring of her yelps and groans. She likes it that way better because he is less sentimental, and it is less painful to leave. She likes the way she screams out in pain, because of her failure to become what was socially acceptable. She likes the way he turns around and gives her a cold shoulder when she picks all the shredded cloth from the floor, likes the way he doesn't say goodbye. It's only business, right? Strictly professional. _Put them on_, is the last thing she hears sometimes, his voice disgusted. In him or her, she isn't sure.

...

iii._ I wanted to be a princess, y'know_? She spends the night with him again. She isn't a stranger to his demands, and knows that he gets lonely sometimes. So does she. That doesn't mean she doesn't charge him sometimes. _Purple gown and everything, with a horse and a castle and my very own Prince Charming. _She scoffs._ I wanted to be Ms. America, and the President of the United States. What did I get instead? You._

...

iv. He's her top requester, and most of the times, she thinks it is because he is lonely. They go to his house most of the time, when it isn't his car or some sleazy hotel, heads low and feet quick to move. His home where stacks of papers and files sit in corners and underneath the couch, impatiently waiting for him to pick them up and sort them out, sign them and love them. His home where there are photos of him and his sister, pretty features like him. She's a teacher, he said once. The kids love her, and it's a big surprise. _I'm not anything important. Not a lawyer or professor or anything. Some lousy salesman, and occasionally the scum of Earth._ She clicks her tongue at his mess, her red high heels clicking and clacking as she walks around his two-room apartment, a frown settling on her lips. _You need a friend._

...

v. He has friends. Many. They talk to him at work, and they give him relationship advice sometimes, even if he swears that nothing has caught his eye. They tease him and talk to him during lunch, even if it was a bit awkward at first. Many, many friends. She cocks her head, confusion clouding her eyes. _Why is your house so alone_? The little apartment alone during the day and alone during the night sighs sometimes, and so does he. Why is he so alone? The question keeps repeating, and he has yet to hear the answer. He doesn't care, though. When did he?

...

vi. _Don't call me again_, the words are hissed out, his cheeks pink with embarrassment and eyes nervous. _Don't call me again, and don't visit me_. She's a little hurt, because she thought they were friends but before she could even utter out the word "_friend_" she's sure he pushes her out of the way so that his male colleagues won't try to link her to anything. We can't, not here not ever. I don't know what kind of idea you got, but it's not true, okay? Leave me alone. I'll find you. Don't worry. A smile starts to spread, pulling her full lips upwards. How many times has she heard that before? Don't worry. He grabs her hand quickly, his eyes softening and his voice guilty and he calls her by the name they give her around the nightlights. She yanks her hand back, a sneer forming. _My name is Bella._

_..._

* * *

**NOTES**: (02/20) I'm obsessed with these type of AUs tbh. I don't know if I'll continue this, to be honest, because it's pretty lame and the whole bella/alec thing isn't my style anymore but I just got this really big urge that you sometimes get and? Human AUs? Who even reads human Aus in these times I'm laughing /_ I do not own or am part of anything in the Twilight Franchise. All credit is due where is needed, from the characters to the cover art._ / Also this is insanely OOC someone kill me


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